Welcome to the 70th Annual Hunger Games
by RossumPossum
Summary: The seventieth annual hunger games begins and 24 tributes head of to the Capitol. They will almost certainly die. The capitol however has other plans and decides to mix up the games a little this year. Who will win the dreaded games and make it back home? Prologue is just the treaty of treason if you know it then just skip to chapter one . Read and review. Finnick will appear.
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome to the 70th Annual Hunger Games**

Chapter 1

River's POV

It was a cold night in district four. The air nipped at my throat as I inhaled a sharp breath. Another nightmare; I've been having them ever since I turned twelve. It's always worse at this time of year. The reason? The Reaping. Everyone in the all Districts between the ages of twelve and eighteen always gets nervous; knowing that any day they could be taken to the Arena. Our Reaping is tomorrow. We're all raised in fear of boarding that train, the one that takes us to our death. I became a Career out of fear just in case I was taken.

My mother was reaped by the capitol, she was shoved into an Arena just after she had me, and my father was taken the year before in a tragic fishing accident. At three months I was orphaned.

I pull the covers up more tightly around my neck as the cold wind sweeps over me again. Something feels bad about tonight; I feel like it will be my last here. Despite the fact that I never have to take Tesserae and my name is only in there two times, I know that it's me going on that train tomorrow. I toss and turn for what feels like hours before finally falling asleep.

I shift awkwardly, surrounded by my fellow potential tributes. They have fear in their sea green eyes, the ones that everybody in my district has. My longish black hair sways in the ever-constant summer breeze that sweeps throughout all of Four. The sun beats down upon us but the breeze keeps us cool. However, it's _not_ a perfect day; the air is thick and dense with the threat of death.

Most of the twelve year olds around me cry for their parents but the eldest people in the centre of the square await their death call eagerly. Many of them have trained for this but most are just happy that the Games have almost released them from their grasp; they are almost free.

I am not as lucky as them; I'm only thirteen. I could be chosen today or in any of the next four Reapings. The District Four escort Carmel arrives on the stage dressed in a 'capitol stylish' black dress which has gold circles surrounding it; they must be kept up by invisible wires as they appear to float around her. She smiles sweetly as she delves her hand into the bowl that contains my name and that of every other boy here. To her it is a great way to lighten the mood but to us it's ominous and disturbing, the threat of our death looming before us. She swirls her hand around over and over, choosing the Games' new victim. Her hand freezes over one and we all hold our breath as she raises it to eye level and slowly fiddles with the plastic that keeps the small envelope shut. When she finally opens it her lips move, reading out the name in her shrill voice that I've hated since I first heard it. The name that drops from her painted lips makes my blood run cold. "_River Riptide!"_

I freeze, unable to move as all eyes fall upon me.

Suddenly I'm on the chariots with the Capitol laughing and jeering at me; then I am in the training centre and all the other tributes tower over me and they're all skilled at weaponry. They decapitate a training doll but as its head hits the ground it changes. It's not a doll anymore; it's me. Next thing I know I am in the arena and a tribute is standing over me with a horridly curved blade in their hand. "Wake up River," she says her eyes dark and cold, but her voice not coming from in front of me, it's echoing, it's coming from my side.  
"What?" I say and my voice it has the same dream like quality as hers.  
"Come on, wake up." Her voice is familiar; my mind whizzes to try and place it. Then it hits me; Gina, my only friend.

My eyes snap open and I'm back in my room away from the horrors of the arena, panting like a dog and covered in a cold sweat, but alive. I decide I must have been thrashing about in my sleep as I notice my bed covers lie on the floor by my side. I sit up and see Gina staring at me; she has sympathy in her steady gaze. She knows what it was like at my age. She was a Victor in the Games twenty years ago; winning only by using spears to destroy her opponents. I live in Victors Village in her house. She's been my mother for thirteen years, ever since the Capitol murdered my parents. Gina smiles at me like a mother who is trying to comfort a sick child.

"You have to get ready for the Reaping," she reminds me softly.

"No, I can't," I say hurriedly. I want nothing more than to run as far away from the town square as I can. The sick feeling I get when I know something bad is going to happen sweeps over me. I feel like throwing up but I hold it in for the sake of Gina.

"You can and you will," she sighs. "Now move it!"

Gina is always telling me what to do, but I don't mind. I stand and head over to one of the fancy closets which has already automatically chosen an outfit for me; it is a capitol design feature. It's a midnight blue shirt and a pair of black trousers. I am happy with the outfit; might as well look good on what could be my last day at home, so I go down stairs to get breakfast.

This time I know I'm awake but the square seems so much like the dream; the sun is beating down, the breeze is flowing and the air is still putrid with tension. Carmel stands on the stage her dress the same but blue and green instead to match the District's colours.

She smiles as she dips her hand into the girls bowl her hand, swirling it around and around until she pauses and snaps up a piece of paper, drawing her hand from the bowl. Delicately she slips her fingers into the envelope and reads out the name inscribed there. "_Aquaria Valentine!" _

"No!" screams a woman that can only be her mother. She charges forward but is grabbed by two Peacekeepers and restrained. The sea green eyed girl looks back at her mother and mouths what looks like, "I love you," before moving towards the stage. I've seen her around, she's a Career and was in the school at the same time as me. She excelled in combat with spears but, strangely was not good at throwing. She smiles but I know she is just putting on a brave face.

"Well we have our District Four girl, now let's find out which of you boys will have the honour of competing for your fabulous District." Her hand dips back into the second bowl that has been fetched by a peacekeeper. She swirls her hand inside the bowl and the feeling comes over me again.

Then I notice it. The pattern her hand is moving in. It's exactly the same as it was in my nightmare. I know what will happen before it does but it doesn't make a difference, I'm still frozen with fear when I hear the words in the shrill tone of Carmel.

"_River Riptide!"_


	2. Chapter 2

**Welcome to the 70th Annual Hunger Games**

Chapter 2

Bright's point of view

I stare out of the window as District Two whizzes by. The male from my district is young, I'm pretty sure it's his first Games. He's weak looking too and I've seen no sign of intelligence from him yet. He's no match for me, nor any of the other twenty-two tributes I've seen so far. I've already made up my mind that I'll not work with him, but I'll have to help him at some point I suppose. If he's in trouble and I don't help, there'll be no point in my returning; the people of District Three will hate me if I let someone die so early on when I could have helped.

As he sits eating a bright red roll and staring at a chandelier like it's one of District One's diamonds that has just fallen into his lap, I watch him. His name is Bolt and is relatively nondescript with short black hair and bright brown eyes. He notices me staring, analysing, and smiles at me, flashing the gap in his teeth that makes him look even more childish than his tiny stature. I don't know why he's smiling at me, only one of us can survive this thing, and we both know it'll be me. I almost feel sorry for him. Almost. He returns to his roll, greedily wolfing it down. I glance at the mirror, my forest green eyes cold and calculating as I stare at myself, my gaze so bitter it almost scare myself. All the while, a chant buzzes around and around my mind: I must win the games, I must win the games.

The TV by the large glass window – which makes up the centre of the carriage - flickers into life and I think back over those who stand out to me as threats as they appear on the TV as yet more coverage of the Reaping's.

There was the fearsome boy from District One who eagerly volunteered to participate; the girl by his side as they stand rigid on the stage - her brown eyes glint in the light, she'll get loads of sponsors, she's quite beautiful.

Next, the fairly thin but ominous boy from District Two, who smiled calmly as he approached the stage; the deranged looking girl from the same District – she's a career I suspect, but looks mentally unstable enough to kill all her team members in their sleep. Then Bolt and I are drawn. I shake slightly as I ascend the steps.

I glance away from the screen, disgusted at the sight of my own momentary weakness. I cannot afford to lose and being weak is not an option. I return my gaze to the screen in time to see the District Four tributes disappearing of the stage. Both careers, I think to myself. Next appears the odd pair from five. The boy appears as if he doesn't care but the girl freaks out and has to be dragged onto the stage. She's lucky she wasn't shot. She whimpers as she is asked her name "Nadine," she says between sobs.

The District Six tributes and the girl from District Seven are not worthy of mentioning really, but the boy from Seven whom is broad shouldered and massive will be a difficult one, I'm sure. His green eyes shine like the computer chips my parents work with but I see both fear and confidence hinted there.

There are several children around my age and younger, but none seem very notable. The only other tribute who stands out is the boy from District Eleven who's name, I think is Gladius. Tall, and of African origin and has blue eyes which is very unusual. He appears strong, but rather friendly. If anyone, he would be a good ally as I know the careers won't accept me, having seen neither my strength nor my intelligence. Not that I'd have them, anyway.

That's it Gladius I shall use you as my ally and with your help I shall be the victor of the games.


End file.
